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by White Eevee
Summary: Shion is working late at the Restructural Committee when an accident befalls him that inadvertently reunites him with Nezumi.


Shion clicks off the last few sentences of the City Park proposal and leans back in his chair. The light streaming in through the windows of his office is in its first stage of fading. Friday has slipped right by him. He's certain most of his team already left for the day. They have families to get home to, or lovers to see, or social lives to attend to. Shion has his mother, of course, but he knows he has been less than available lately. She hasn't complained yet, but he has started to notice the worried glimmer in her eyes.

He just doesn't feel sociable. The Restructural Committee is hard work, and despite the praise he receives for his role in its successes, it still feels like he starts every day behind where he should be. He's tired and busy, and by the time he drags himself home at the end of the day, all he wants to do is eat whatever his mom has prepared for him and collapse onto his bed.

Still, he doesn't want Karan to worry, so when she proposed that they invite Rikiga, Inukashi, and little Shionn over for dinner this weekend, he agreed with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. He _does_ like to see his friends, but for every moment he spends laughing with them, he can't help but spare a thought for Nezumi. The one person conspicuously missing from his life, the only person he really wants to see, and for whom he works so hard.

Nezumi had torn a hole in his heart two years ago and nothing ever rushed in to fill the void. Not time, not work, not even the love of his mother and friends numbed the pain or longing. The only thing that helps is Tsukiyo, and the little mouse is growing steadily older and feebler. He doesn't think he has many more months in him.

Shion groans and curls over the edge of his desk. _Where are you, Nezumi? I'm trying to be strong. I'm trying to make No. 6 a place worthy of you, to make myself someone you'd be proud of, but it gets harder every day. How long do I have to wait for you to come back to me?_

He _never _closes the window, not in rain or wind or snow. Shion has grown accustomed to sharing his room with the critters that scuttle in on occasion, has become adept at shepherding birds and spiders out of the window. A year ago, Karan had been sympathetic of his insistence on keeping it open. Now the sympathy has turned to worry.

He knows the thoughts that go through her head. Who that loves him doesn't worry? Even Shion has moments of doubt and weakness, but he has thus far managed to pull himself back from the edge of despair whenever he gets too close.

_I won't give up. Nezumi _is _coming back. And I'll be ready when he does._

Shion forces himself to sit up and rub the exhaustion from his eyes. He checks his email one last time to be sure there's nothing urgent before he leaves for the day.

He's still glued to the monitor twenty minutes later when Tori knocks. "You're still here?" the other man asks.

Tori is Shion's junior in the Committee, despite being a few years older, and the coworker Shion enjoys working with most. He reminds him a little of Yamase, if Yamase had been more excitable and loved karaoke.

"So are you," Shion points out.

Tori smiles wryly and shakes his head. "You're a bit of a workaholic, you know. If you don't slow down you're going to develop wrinkles, and then what will your sweetheart think?"

Shion knows his coworkers speculate on his love life. Since he shows no interest in dating or socializing, they all decided his heart is tied up with someone, but are divided on whether he has a secret lover or had been savagely jilted and never fully recovered from the heartbreak. Tori is the only one who openly jokes about it with Shion. Whether Shion is amused depends on the day.

Shion rakes a hand through his bangs, mussing them until they more resemble a puff of cotton than hair. "I was just about to head home." To prove it, he saves his partially written email, shuts the laptop off, and slips it into his messenger bag.

"I've brought these proposals over for you to look at." Tori crosses the room and plops four binders on the edge of the desk. "They're not super urgent, but if you could get me your comments by mid-next week, that'd be great."

Shion groans internally and flips through the first few pages of the top proposal. "I'll look them over this weekend." He slings his messenger bag over his shoulder and collects the binders into his arms.

Tori's brows draw together. "It's not urgent. You can leave them until Monday."

"It's fine."

"Wouldn't you rather do something relaxing on your weekend? Premature wrinkles wouldn't look nice with that white hair…"

Shion shoots him a warning look. Tori shrinks and puts his hands up in surrender. The other man bids him goodnight and stalks out.

Shion sighs and hefts his load toward the elevator. He manages to get a hand free to poke the button, but it doesn't light up. He pokes it a few more times with his elbow before noticing the "Out of Order" sign to his left. Shion leers over the binders at the sealed doors, but he can't conjure up any real anger, only a deep sense of resignation. He heads for the stairs. His office is on the fifth floor, so it isn't so far down.

But on the third floor, the messenger bag slips from his shoulder and the binders tip, and as Shion's foot falls through dead air, the journey seems so, so far down.

Shion opens his eyes on a gray haze. He's not sure where he is. It's not a room, but it's not somewhere outside either, and he has a dizzying feeling that it stretches on forever and yet is currently no bigger than what he can see.

_A dream?_ But that doesn't feel right. He remembers… He doesn't quite remember, but has a sense something big happened.

_Am I dead?_

A sharp terror jolts through him. He can't be dead. He still has so much work to do. His mother, and Rikiga, and Inukasi, and little Shionn are waiting for him. _And Nezumi. I have to be there when he returns. I can't be dead!_

Shion whirls around, looking for some way out, but there's just haze and emptiness as far as he can see.

"Geez. Can your dreamscape get any more boring?" drawls a voice from behind him.

Shion's racing heart stills in his chest.

"Don't tell me corporate life's sucked all the creativity out of you."

Shion swallows and turns.

He looks just as he remembers: Lithe and breathtaking, dressed in his leather jacket and worn cargo pants. He stops a few steps away.

"Nezumi," Shion breathes.

A smirk perches in the corner of Nezumi's mouth. "Went and took a tumble down the stairs, huh?" His gray eyes glimmer with laughter. "Typical. You've always been a klutz. I don't know how you made it this far."

"Fell down the stairs?" Shion thinks a moment. Remembers. "Oh, yeah… I guess I did."

Nezumi snorts. "Blasé as ever. Good to see that, at least, hasn't been beaten out of you."

"Am I dead right now?"

Nezumi glances around. "You could be, I guess. But it's not a done deal. This is an in-between place. A gray area, so to speak," he finishes with a droll smile.

Shion smiles at the lame joke, but something scratches at the back of his mind. "Wait, but… If this is the in-between, then…" His heart wrenches in his chest, and when Nezumi's expression tightens, his heart damn near tears itself in half.

Nezumi's here greeting him. Nezumi looks exactly as he remembers the day he left. _No._ Shion grips the sides of his head and squeezes. _No, it's not right._

"Shion," Nezumi says quietly.

"Why are you here?" Shion forces through his teeth. He begs for Nezumi to rattle off another joke or jibe, but Nezumi only watches him, his grey eyes desolate as a tundra.

"Shion," he says again. His smile turns bitter at the edges. "You've always been too sharp for your own good."

"No." The plea escapes from some dark, deep place inside him, leaving his throat raw. His body burns, but realization burrows like an icicle through his brain. He wants to ask how, why, but he can't form the words, and, really, what does it matter? It happened and it's forever and there's nothing he can do about it.

"You said reunion would come," Shion gasps. "You promised."

"What do you call this?"

"Nezumi."

"I know. I'm sorry." Nezumi's eyes dart away, but he masters himself and meets Shion's gaze. "Don't cry, Shion. Didn't I tell you not to waste your tears?"

"This isn't a waste!"

Nezumi's smile returns, soft and sad. "We will be together again, Shion. I promised and I meant it."

"You're supposed to come back. You're supposed to get to know my mom, and see how much little Shionn has grown, and what a great person Inukashi's become…" Shion drops his head. His tears drip soundlessly into the gray. "You're supposed to come back. I've left the window open for you. I never closed it. Not once. I… I was waiting to be with you."

"Is that what you want?"

"That's all I ever wanted."

"You've done a great job with the city."

Shion looks up. "You saw it?"

"I did. You've come really far. I must say I'm impressed. But I always knew you had it in you."

The pride Shion sees in Nezumi's eyes beats back some of the cold that's crept into his chest. But that makes the reality that much worse. He can hardly breathe. This is the ugliest he's ever felt, but Nezumi's looking at him like he's beautiful.

"You've helped a lot of people. You've turned the city completely around. No. 6 couldn't be in better hands. But the city can probably manage without you now. If you want to be with me, no one will blame you. But if you do, you'll have to leave everything else behind."

_Leave behind everything..._ _I could do it. _He had done it two years ago, to be with Nezumi. He could do it again. _They don't need me, not anymore._

Other people could manage the city and implement law. The Restructural Committee is a thankless job and the work never ends. There are days when he wishes he could lay down and disappear. He deserves a rest—everyone always tells him, so why not listen?

"So? What do you want to do?" Nezumi bows regally and extends a hand. "Will you come away with me, Your Highness?"

_Yes. Yes, I want to._

Nezumi looks exquisitely beautiful with his rakish smile and sparkling eyes, and Shion remembers the days they spent reading shoulder to shoulder in the underground room. Back then, being together felt as right and easy as breathing. Shion yearns for the effortlessness of their youth, and he knows they can have that comfort again if he just raises his hand to take Nezumi's.

He lifts his arm, but other images tumble out, bright and flush with life: Karan working hard in the bakery, massaging her hands after a long day kneading dough; Inukashi and Rikiga bickering as dogs yap excitedly at their feet; the sound of little Shionn's laugh.

_I want to be with you, Nezumi._

But…

"_Don't die. Live."_

The words bubble up from his memory, from the night he fought and screamed and sweat and a desperate voice demanded he fight no matter how badly he wanted to give in.

Shion's arm falls. "N-Nezumi," he sobs. "I—I…"

"Yes?"

"I… I want to…" The sobs come harder, faster, the tears so thick he swears he's drowning. "I want to. But I can't. Because you told me—you told me to live. I—I want to live."

Nezumi's eyes flash. He stands there, half bowed, his hand still raised in offering. Then he straightens. "Good." A real, heartrending smile rises to his lips. "That's really good, Shion."

But it feels awful. It feels like his body is breaking open. He's sweating and shaking and the world wavers before him. He doesn't know if he can survive this, even as the words continue to tumble out of his mouth. "I'm s-so sorry. I want to. I want to so badly…"

"I know." Nezumi steps forward and pulls him close. "I know. Don't cry anymore. I'm really proud of you."

It feels so good to be wrapped in Nezumi's arms again, to feel him real and solid against his throbbing chest. Shion squeezes his eyes shut and clings to him. "I love you. I never told you. Not really. Not after."

"I know, Shion. Hey, it'll be okay. Look at me."

Nezumi kisses him. It's warm and aching and it lingers. Nezumi lingers. He kisses his jaw and his cheek and his temple. His fingers trace the edge of the scar on Shion's neck, feather light, a tender act of worship. Nezumi wipes the tears from Shion's chin and kisses his mouth again, softly.

And Shion knows then. This is not a goodbye kiss. It was never a goodbye kiss.

"I'm going to keep living," he tells Nezumi, commanding some strength into his ragged voice. "I'll try my hardest. And then… Then, when it's time…." Shion grips Nezumi tightly, trying to impress upon him all that he can't bear to say.

"That's my boy. Or I guess man now, huh?" Nezumi chuckles lightly and steps back. It's only an arm span away but it feels like a chasm. Nezumi's smile is weak and his eyes are knowing as he says, "Live a long life, Shion. Live to a ripe old age. Promise me that."

"I promise."

The gray around them grows hazier and the air starts to fuzz like a bad connection. Shion's heart leaps into his throat.

Nezumi just looks up and sighs. "Guess it's my turn to do the waiting."

Shion opens his eyes to bright white. His face burns and his body aches dully. It feels like he's been slapped.

"Shion! Hey, quick, he's awake!"

He's in a hospital bed. His friends and loved ones rush to his side, their relief-stricken faces peering down at him, asking him how he feels, chiding him for making them worry. Inukashi appears above him, then Rikiga, then his mother. Even Tori's there, looking pale and worried. But…

_Nezumi._

Shion sobs. The room flinches back. Someone whispers about getting a doctor.

A gaping loneliness yawns in his chest. Shion cries harder and the abyss burrows deeper.

Shion is allowed to go home a few days later. His body is sore and his head throbs. Everyone tells him it could have been worse, but Shion thinks of the gray, blank expanse that lives within him and says nothing in response.

Karan watches him out of the corner of her eye the whole ride home. Nothing much has changed since last Friday, only now Shion feels guiltier than ever. He heads for the stairs the moment he's through the front door.

"Shion?" Karan's voice is small and motherly, and when Shion half turns to her, Karan's eyes are so full of concern that he feels ashamed, and so grateful he could cry.

"I'm going to rest for a little." Karan's face pinches at the corners as she watches him mount the stairs. "I'm fine, Mom. I promise. I'll be down again for dinner, okay?"

Karan murmurs a reply, her anxious gaze still burning a hole though the back of Shion's aching head.

Shion takes one more step, then stops and turns around to face her. "I love you, Mom. I don't think I tell you enough."

Karan's face softens. "I love you too, Shion."

Shion trudges up the rest of the stairs to his room.

The afternoon light spills in from the window, washing the room in gentle yellows. Tsukiyo is curled in the center of Shion's pillow. He lifts his head, a few of the white hairs twitching around his nose, and chirrups when Shion comes up beside the bed to brush him with his finger. When he finishes, Tsukiyo lowers his head to sleep again.

A light breeze wafts in from the open window. Shion closes his eyes and breathes it in, slowly, savoring the warm summer air in his lungs for a few seconds before letting it go.

He crosses the room and slides the window closed.


End file.
